


put yourself in my suitcase

by weird_bird (2weird4)



Series: 2014 Trek Fics [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, M/M, Nostalgia, Road Trips, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:05:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8634424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2weird4/pseuds/weird_bird
Summary: When the flash on the antique camera goes, neither of them is looking straight into the lens.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little scrap of road-trip fluff.
> 
> Title from ["West Coast" by Coconut Records.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qlYGEaeoBWw)

Jim takes a million pictures at the Academy, but he restrains himself and only gets one in an old-fashioned frame.

It’s the final few hours of their crazy awesome road trip. When Jim and Bones are meant to be packing it up to head back to the Academy, they’re drawn by the sea’s siren song one last time instead. 

After running down to where the waves lap, Jim is obviously obliged to yank Bones down into the cold water. Cursing like a sailor, Bones plunges Jim in the salt spray, too.

They’re lucky they can get anyone to take a picture–they look like a couple of bums. Liberally coated in sand and soaked to the skin, Bones’s shirt flaps dry in the breeze while Jim’s plasters itself over his chest. Sunset flushes the chinks of sky between them as they stand in the surf. 

As lightly as if buoyed by the foam kissing their calves, they sling their arms about each other. When the flash on the antique camera goes, neither of them is looking straight into the lens. 

Jim’s got his head on Bones’s shoulder, grin carefree. Bones’s face turns towards him like a sunflower, squinting, scrunching his nose up in exasperation of the fondest possible kind. 

First proposing the trip, Jim thinks he’ll be fleeing to hot days and hotter people. He finds that this time he runs away, but he never leaves home.

The frame tilts jauntily on his bedside table, adorned with the affection of layers of thumbprints.

Jim gets it, all the reminiscing about the golden days. 

It’s just that his sun never set.


End file.
